


unfathomable wonders and beauties

by rosesscythes



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, M/M, more to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-12 14:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19947751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesscythes/pseuds/rosesscythes
Summary: A Halo 30-day prompt challenge, featuring a variety of ships.





	1. interesting choice of words for an AI (Day One: Meeting)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cortana isn't sure what to make of John at first. After all, files don't exactly match firsthand experiences.

“Pleasure to meet you, Master Chief.”

Cortana gazed up at the hulking giant in green armor, analyzing him in her mind’s eye, a thousand thoughts per nanosecond. She’d picked him out of the rest of the Spartans based on what information she’d gleaned, the firsthand accounts Halsey had given her. She knew her data, knew that from a factual point of view, she’d made a good choice. And yet...seeing him in person, she detected a bit of uncertainty in his posture. Doubt? Reluctance? Or curiousity? She’d need even more information to tell.

Halsey introduced her. “She has been programmed with every ONI computer insurgency routine and can modify them on the fly. She also has our best Covenant language translation software.”

The Master Chief’s stature betrayed his comment of “Impressive.” He understood what Cortana was built for, clearly, but she got the sense that he was waiting to truly see her in action. 

_ Well then, _ Cortana thought to herself, _ guess I’ll have to show off as much as Halsey says  _ he  _ does.  _ She raised a hand, teasing, “Yeah. I am pretty great.”

As Halsey directed the Spartan to turn around and kneel, informing him of the upgrades to MJOLNIR’s AI capability, Cortana’s hologram vanished and she privately braced herself. She’d done test insertions, of course, but being jacked into an actual person...she didn’t know what to expect. It went smoothly, however, and she was met with a world of sensation. She only had the most abstract feelings of sense, of course, but still...his armor, his mind felt like they were gently and warmly enveloping her, not enough to be constrictive, but enough to feel his weight. On an impulse, she checked that the warmth wasn’t just her chip overheating, but no, the temperatures remained steady. If anything, his armor was making her chip colder than room temperature. She mentally raised an eyebrow, substituting her mild surprise with a joke. “Not much room in here.”

“I hear her,” the Chief (or, well, she supposed she should call him John, given their newfound connection) said, more to Halsey than herself. She still had to prove herself.

As Halsey told John of the basic steps to the training they were about to go through, Cortana mentally jotted down the feeling of being in armor for scientific reference. She could keep track of all his systems and biosigns, communicate with him internally, and affect his armor and its response times. If she had the urge to, she could lock up his armor just for fun, even if it’d piss him off.

She paused on describing the warmth that had enveloped her, though. Something like that...she’d never experienced it before. She wondered if it would be the same for all AI and soldier combinations, or if it was specific to him. For some reason, some deep-rooted subroutine that nagged at her despite all logic, she didn’t want to. She decided to take the easy way out-jotting it down and then redacting it. There were fair odds only Halsey would see these notes anyways. 

John was clearly thinking about this new development as well, given the biosigns linked to his brain. She brought it up in her own smart-alec way. “I’m detecting a high degree of cerebral cortex activity. You’re not the muscle-bound automaton I was expecting.”

“Interesting choice of words for an AI,” he jabbed back, though she detected the tiniest hint of a smirk to his mouth, the most imperceptible increase to his heart rate. Was she only trying to impress him, or was he trying to impress her back?

She focused on the task at hand, however. “I am also detecting three armed men outside the tent.” 

“Yes. Orbital Drop Shock Troopers.”

Her surprise was palpable, and she wondered if their connection truly went two-ways, if he could detect it. “How do you-”

“I heard one cycle the bolt of his MA5B a few seconds ago.” His gaze wandered towards the location of the soldier outside the door. She hadn’t even heard that, and he not only had, but he’d deduced the precise noise of the weapon the soldier carried? There was even more intellect to this Spartan than she thought, intellect she’d have to test in other ways once they were done with testing.

Still though, Cortana had to make sure for herself that he was combat ready. “What’s your plan?” she asked, even as she detected another ODST sneaking up behind him. Surely he wasn’t just going to let himself be ambushed?

“I’m going to stand here and finish counting to ten.” So he was a really stubborn listener, apparently. Good for following orders. And yet, the AI didn’t really have the same feeling of doubt she had had before returning to her. Even as the ODST got closer and closer, John’s cerebral cortex activity was clearly increasing. He knew what he was doing.

She wanted to make sure, however. “Take your time. I’ll upload combat protocols to your armor. Initiating detection algorithms...” Not like he needed them. She detected the slightest twitch in his muscles, getting ready to pounce right back on the ODST who thought he was sneaking up on them. Even so, a radar popped up on John’s HUD, clearly displaying the red dot behind him. She rapidly installed a shield meter as well in the upper corner. “And boosting your neural interface performance,” Cortana commented to him. 

The second John’s count hit ten, he spun around and grabbed the ODST by the throat with one hand, redirecting his assault rifle with the other, before stealing the man’s knife and tossing it into the second ODST’s shoulder. And as John spun around to use the gun to kneecap the last of the three ODSTs entering the staging area, Cortana realized two things.

First of all, he was crazy. And second of all…

She  _ liked  _ crazy.


	2. things look different (Day Two: Realization)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he waits for Thel to return from Earth, Rtas reflects.

Rtas ‘Vadum studied the holographic map with a determined stare, looking over this bright blue and green and white world the humans called home. A distinctive black burn covered part of their continent of Africa, the continent that the _Shadow of Intent_ was currently positioned over, a foul mark on what he would honestly consider a beautiful planet. 

And what a strange thing to think. Every human world before that he had encountered had disgusted him, in its own way. Surely, they could not compare to the holographic-like quality that covered Sangheilios’ globe, or the purple dome of _High Charity_ , or the sheer majesty that had overtaken the then-Special Operations warrior when he had first glimpsed the ringworld known as Halo? Truly, this heretical race did not think their constructs only served to diminish the natural beauty of the planets they colonized? He’d thought them pathetic, and the glass he’d helped to cover their worlds with much more beautiful.

But now, looking at the homeworld of the once-enemy to the Covenant, he felt a sense of awe. This was where the only race to withstand the Prophets’ wrath had begun. With its high mountains, deep blue oceans, grassy green plains, and stark white poles...it reminded him of Halo, if it had been a more natural formation. Even if it was a necessary sacrifice, a play for the greater good, he somewhat regretted burning even just a fraction of it.

Perhaps that was why humanity was such a worthy foe.

But Rtas had looked at the map plenty. It was just a distraction, after all, as he waited for the Arbiter-for Thel ‘Vadam to return from its surface. It had been a harrowing 12 days waiting just for any news of the Arbiter’s survival of the Ark, before the front half of the ship the humans referred to as the _Forward Unto Dawn_ splashed down into the waters of Earth. The months since had been just as stressful, tying together what was left of the Sangheili as best they could, its remnants having been shattered even more since the destruction of Glyke, just a few days after the Arbiter had returned. An accident, the humans had claimed, a miscommunication.

Rtas, for his part, wasn’t sure if they were to be believed, but agreed with Thel’s opinion that the tragedy wasn’t worth renewing the war for. It was, in the grand scheme of things, fair play, especially since Earth had been attacked while Sangheilios remained untouched. The map only served to remind him of that.

It was funny how much he agreed with Thel in general, nowadays. He had been one of the first to blame the Arbiter for the destruction of the first Sacred Ring to be found. He had told him on Threshold how little he cared for him. Rtas had even almost hoped that the rebel leader on the gas giant would have killed Thel, so that he may have had the glory to himself.

But the Arbiter had changed, and Rtas had changed with him. The Prophets’ betrayal had shaken him to his core, while Thel remained strong, fighting against the Jiralhanae and Flood alike on Delta Halo. Rtas, once as thirsty for glory as any Sangheili, had sat back to carefully sterilize the ring, while Thel had led the charge to Earth, fighting alongside the late Sergeant and then The Demon to finish what had been started. And Thel had advised Rtas when he arrived, late in pursuit of a stray Flood-infested ship, stopping him from all but starting the war anew in its twilight hours. Whereas Rtas had acted rashly, Thel had acted consciously.

It was more than a shift in their dynamic. It was the two covering each others’ weaknesses. And it was a feeling Rtas had not felt since Bero ‘Kusovai, his former second-in-command, had been infected by the parasite onboard the _Infinite Succor_. What was less than a year ago felt like a lifetime.

He heard the Arbiter’s footsteps approaching, and the very fact that he could identify them only reinforced what he was already thinking about. Rtas inclined his head towards his comrade. “Things look different, without the Prophets’ lies clouding my vision.” He paused, the slightest hesitation. “But I would like to see our world-to know that it is safe.”

Thel laid a hand on Rtas’ shoulder, and just the contact was enough to make his whole body posture relax somewhat. “Fear not,” said the other Sangheili. “For we have made it so.”

Rtas saluted, a fist to his chest, far different than what he’d seen of the humans’ salute. “By your word, Arbiter.” And he knew, even despite the tragedy at Glyke, that Thel’s word was true. That while there was conflict to come, Sangheilios was safe, that the Sangheili and all their keeps and kaidons and children were safe.

Thel took the command chair. “Take us home.”

And as Rtas moved to direct the _Shadow of Intent_ , to plot a vector to Sangheilios, he realized that there was no one that he would rather go home with.


	3. in memory of those fallen (Day Three: The Reveal)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linda has survived more than she would have liked. Kelly has lost more than she would have liked. They're there for each other (and Fred, to a lesser degree).

She had survived Spartan-II augmentations and survived being trapped without the rest of her team on Alpha Corvi II. In a technical sense, she’d even survived death itself during the Fall of Reach, and as a result was one of the only remaining survivors of the Battle of Installation 04, even if she had been too dead to participate. And she’d just come back from surviving being stuck for three months inside a Dyson sphere on an ancient world made of hostile Forerunner machines, missing out on much of the Battle of Earth. In short, Linda-058 had a feeling that at this point, nothing that could be thrown at her could kill her.

And yet, as she and the rest of Blue Team —what  _ remained  _ of Blue Team, looked at the monument before them, she found herself regretting it in some ways. Because even if she was alive now, she felt like a part of her had died. Like a part of all of them died.

The rest of the ceremonial group was gone. The Marines, back to whatever homes they had left after the war’s end. The Sangheili, back to their ship, and most likely back to their own homes. Lord Hood had left as well, but not before telling Fred that Blue Team had shore leave for a few days, on his direct order.

The “to mourn” was only implied, but it was more than felt.

Linda stood implacably at a slight remove behind the others. Kelly was at the front, touching the monument, angry tears staining her cheeks. Fred stood between them, and Linda could tell that he wasn’t looking directly at the monument, his eyes just distantly sliding over it to gaze at the ruins of Voi beyond it. And here she was, feeling unable to comfort them, as she stood awkwardly behind them and took the whole sight in.

How fitting. The scout in front, the commander in center, and the sniper to the back.

And the hero was missing-in-action. To most of humanity, that offered some measure of hope. To the Spartans, it was just another word for dead.

“There’s no pictures, none of his medals…” Kelly spoke, breaking Linda out of her reverie. “He saved humanity, and they couldn’t be bothered to put his fucking Purple Heart on here?” Linda raised an eye. Unlike the Marines, cursing wasn’t common for the Spartans. It was clear how hard Kelly was being hit by this.

Kelly, who out of the three of them was closest to the one they were here to mourn. Who had been close to Kurt, too, and had been the first one to see him again back on Onyx, before he died as well. Who had lost another close friend in Sam, the first Spartan to die. Who, with her blue hair, charming attitude, and rabbit-like speed, was easily one of the most emotionally expressive Spartans. A sharp contrast to Linda’s own stoic, zen nature.

Fred tried to break the tension. “I guess it was him or Johnson, and Johnson just happened to be around longer.” That was the wrong thing to say, as Kelly whirled on him. Linda stepped forward, ready to stop the two from quarreling, but Fred backed up, raising his hands and looking sheepish. “I’m sorry. I just-I hear humor helps people remember. Helps them to mourn.”

Linda took another step forward, speaking her piece. “I think...in some ways we’ve forgotten.” As Kelly and Fred turned to her inquisitively, she continued. “During the war...all we could do was keep fighting. We haven’t had time to process since...since augmentations.” She remembered seeing Kelly trying to recuperate after the series of surgeries. She remembered being one of the most worried as her teammate almost joined the others who hadn’t made it through. Kelly’s survival had since served as a reminder to Linda, that the Spartans could survive, keeping her together even in the face of the most extreme pressures. Not that she’d ever told her teammate that.

Kelly nodded however, understanding. “We should do something for him.” As if on cue, she turned around, and leaned down, searching the ground for something. She found what she was looking for quickly enough, a sharp, bladelike piece of hardened glass, debris that had crossed the wind to be left here. She approached the monument again, finding an empty space in the lower right corner, and used the object to carve a straight line. She turned, handing it to Fred, who took it with a raised eyebrow. Kelly gestured to the monument, and he got her intention, placing another line next to it.

Linda was given the honor of taking the blade last, kneeling and carving the final number. A seven, to go along with the first two ones. A reminder, of a number to be remembered for years to come. 

She dropped the blade, and stood, looking at what they had carved together. “It feels right...but we should still remember him in our own way.”

And, unexpectedly, Kelly stepped back up, and took her hand in her own. A thousand emotions flooded through Linda, a look of surprise even betraying her features. The Spartans had a lot of hand signals, a lot of subtle ways of communication. This was perhaps the most intimate one had ever gotten with another. When Fred didn’t step up with her, Linda knew it wasn’t out of any lack of want to share in the moment. She realized that he was letting Kelly and Linda share feelings that ran deeper, feelings that sharply contrasted with the grief they were processing.

“We’ll remember him by surviving,” Kelly said, her own cheeks flushed as she focused her gaze on the monument. And Linda squeezed her hand tight, and the little part of them that had died began to grow, because they would survive together.


	4. the only rule is there are no rules (Day Four: First Date)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serin calls it "killing two birds with one stone". Naomi calls it a hell of a first date.

“You don’t think this is conspicuous? At all?” Naomi asked, leaning the menu held before her down slightly, so her eyes could meet Serin’s across the table. She shifted slightly, a telling sign that she was uncomfortable. All she had on was a nice yellow sundress that matched her hair, undergarments, a sunhat, and flip-flops. It looked cute, at the very least, even if it sharply contrasted with her muscular frame. An M6C was in the purse she carried for disguise, at the very least, but she still felt uncomfortable. She was at her best when enclosed in MJOLNIR, not dressed in civvies.

Serin smiled languidly back at her, looking more than her fair share like the Cheshire cat, setting her own menu down. “What, can’t two ladies have a nice lunch date at a cafe?” She herself was dressed in a nice navy blue button down and khaki slacks, loose enough to hide her own M6C, holstered under her shoulder. “It’s been 500 years, and you haven’t put old prejudices aside? Tsk, tsk, Nai.”

“ _Not_ what I meant,” Naomi replied, rolling her eyes. They kept their voices low enough to not be conspicuous, though the cafe they were in was sparsely populated. Most Levosians ate lunch a little later than they were eating now, but they could dismiss it as being travelers. “I mean...I realize that you of all people should know about privacy, but still. I, for one, am not the least eye-catching person out there.”

“Well, yes, it’s no wonder why I asked you out,” Serin teased. A slight blush overtook Naomi’s face, and Serin exploited it a little for her own pleasure, leaning over and putting a hand over her date’s and watching the blush increase. “Relax. BB’s got us covered while Vaz and Mal do the dirty work. All we have to do is sit and watch out for them before Dev picks us up.”

“And you couldn’t have asked her to accompany you? I can pilot, you know.” Naomi’s response was betrayed by her taking Serin’s hand in her own, rubbing her knuckles with a well-calloused thumb.

Serin smirked. “I think the boys would call that cheating. Call it...killing two birds with one stone.” Indeed, they were on Levosia as part of an operation, tracking down an Insurrectionist cell that had been around since before either of them were born. The planet, long renowned for being the very birthplace of the Insurrection, had ironically been one of the quickest to fall in line with the UNSC after the war had started, and had survived as well. Now, however, their anti-UEG stances was rearing its ugly head again. Kilo-Five was here to make sure it didn’t reach a boiling point by any means necessary.

And because Serin knew the perfect little cafe to take Naomi on a first date.

Naomi shook her head. “Hmph. How very...mercenary of you.” She resisted the word ONI, not wanting to break their cover, but a slight quirk of her lips revealed her amusement at Serin’s little joke. She looked back at the menu. “Will we actually have time to eat, at least?”

Serin pursed her lips. “Might have to cut and run, unfortunately, but if we got something small and simple, we could finish it by the time they finish.” She picked up her menu again, sweeping over it. “I was thinking the BLT, myself.”

Naomi gave a non-committal grunt. “If we had more time, I’d take the chicken piccata. But since we don’t...I suppose a caprese sandwich wouldn’t be too much trouble. At least if the boys wrap up early, we could carry them with us.” She scanned it again. “I’d kill for an iced tea, though.”

Serin chuckled, and somewhere a UNSC traitor had a heart attack. “Hm. I’m much more one for coffee. Interesting.” She flagged down a waiter, and the duo ordered. She turned back to Naomi as the man left. “I was curious as to why you agreed to come with me, I will admit.”

Naomi pursed her lips, clearly choosing her words carefully. “You know...it’s been a long time since I saw one of the others, besides you. I was out of commission during Reach, a result of injuries on New Jerusalem...which you probably already know about.” She blushed again, playing with the neckline of her dress. “I made it to Earth in time, but I was deployed totally separately from Fred and the rest. I was injured again then, even more seriously, and it meant I couldn’t make it to the Memorial.” She met Serin’s eyes, finally. “Seeing you again...it reminded me of better times. When there were more of us. And I wanted to feel like that all the time by staying close to you.”

Serin nodded. Naomi was right, she knew a lot of this from reading the Spartan’s files before her assignment to Kilo-Five. “And the secret agent stuff?” she pressed. “The dirty work? I know how we were trained, but I’ve done my research. John and the rest...they never really liked doing it after the war started.”

Naomi nodded. “It’s a bit weirder now, knowing my dad and all, but it’s what needs to be done. You, BB, the ODSTs...even Phillips, you’re who I’ve got. I don’t relate to the rest like I do you guys now.” She took Serin’s hand back in her own, but said no more. She looked out the window; Levosians were starting to filter out steadily from nearby buildings and skyscrapers, a sign their own lunchtime was starting.

As if on cue, their food came, and they tucked into it quickly enough, though not as ravenously as they’d seen Vaz and Mal eat on occasion. As Naomi finished her first half of her sandwich and Serin finished her second, however, a loud _THUMP!_ and the quick rush of air signalling a falling body was heard outside, and they looked out the window at a panicked crowd forming. The duo quickly bustled out of the restaurant to see the results of their mission.

An Insurrectionist leader had hit the pavement from 50 stories above them, and while Serin couldn’t see them, she knew her private duo of ODSTs had been the ones to kill him and make it look like a suicide. She and Naomi drew their sidearms and falsified police badges quickly.

“Nobody move!” Serin yelled into the crowd, scanning. It’d be a simple affair to take the body into custody, hiding it from any local autopsies (with Black-Box covertly muffling any phone calls to the actual police), before escaping out to a pickup point where Dev would grab the duo as well as Mal and Vaz and take them back to the _Port Stanley_.

The only thing more thrilling than having a love life was work, after all. 


	5. all hail the conquering hero (Day Five: Reminder)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He walks along the desert, and though he does not know what he is looking for, he knows it beckons to him as much as she did.

It was quiet. If he was being cliche, a little too quiet.

But in some ways, he liked it that way. Sure, he’d trained for almost the entirety of his formative years for combat, and had spent the rest of them in a war that had seemed without end, against an alien enemy that was too mind-numbingly overwhelming to give much thought. The din of battle, the sounds of rifles firing and knives being drawn and swords made of pure energy being activated...he knew each and every sound like the back of his hand.

Quiet, however, had once meant downtime. A time of relaxation, when he could let the pin loose and be with the ones he cared about most. Spartans didn’t talk much, but they enjoyed each others’ company all the same. He liked when it was quiet around him.

What he hated, however, was the silence inside his own mind.

He trudged along incessantly, against the beating winds and burning sands, his cloak fluttering and occasionally obscuring his vision, though he paid it little mind. The sands glittered like the stars he’d viewed for all his life, first as a boy, looking up alongside his best friend, wondering if aliens existed, and then as a man, traveling across space to fight for humanity’s survival.

The sands glittered like she had.

Night was coming, to this barren world of ash and dust and rock. Night, when the stars themselves would be visible. Night, when all was shrouded in darkness, with only dappled light punctuating the black.

He’d been one of those stars, once, before the black overtook him.

He came to a pile of rocks, overlooking the top of a sand dune. In the distance, he could see more craggy outlines, sharp stone spears jutting out of the sand, like starships, fallen from orbit to pit and pockmark the land. He knew what he was searching for, and it beckoned to him.

More than that, it was coming to him as much as he was to it.

The sand pulsed suddenly, and he stopped. Rocks paused in the midst of their bounce, hovering unnaturally. He was here.

And then the stones fell, and the ground below him fell out from beneath itself, a massive crater in this world’s surface. An explosion of dust rose, and with it came the behemoth.

He didn’t flinch at its massive frame, as it rose from beneath the sand. At the sand it spilled, and the rush of wind that came with it. At the glowing orange eye he could spot beneath its cloak, awakened and unleashed, a maelstrom of power. He raised a hand to his helmet, as it brushed away the hood of its cloak, more to protect the cracks of his visor than to protect himself. 

It spread massive wings as it emitted an unnatural noise, looking like an angel...one that had fallen, one that had been buried for a reason. 

He drew his other hand from beneath his cloak, clutching his precious cargo. His only physical representation left of her. He unfurled his fingers, looking down at it.

A data chip, attached to a chain. A hole in the center was for a holographic display, one that would never activate again.

The mechanical beast unleashed a pulse of power, testing its reactivated mechanisms. He took a step back, as if just remembering it was there, having been lost in his own thoughts for just a second. Something like that could get him killed on the battlefield.

It still could.

He closed his fist again, a sharp motion compared to how he had unfurled it. He put it back at his side, and looked up, past the machine, at the stars that were just starting to come into view, even as the former reflected in his visor. 

And John-117 swore to the stars that, no matter what he had to do, no matter who got in his way, that he had _promises to keep._


	6. but this ring shall make us brothers (Day Six: New to the Family)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The children of Vadam keep have questions for John, much to Thel's chagrin.

“So...this is your...home?”

Thel ‘Vadam cocked an eye as he turned his head to face the visitor in his keep. John had come to Sangheilios on what was supposed to be a simple diplomatic affair, a mending of the supposed wounds and distrust of the Sangheili following the incident at Biko, the one that had forced Thel to speak out on John’s behalf and protest his innocence in the face of human traitors. The rest of Blue Team was out, taking in the sights and speaking with the Arbiter’s men.

Off the books, however, it was an excuse for them to catch up. Thel had not seen his counterpart properly since the events at the Ark, years before. He had heard of the loss of the AI that John had so treasured, their fellow comrade. He wanted to offer his condolences. In some measure, additionally, he wanted John to see his homeworld, as the Arbiter had seen Earth in the days after the war. John had helped save it as much as any other planet, in a way.

The snake-like motion of the Arbiter’s head indicated yes. “Indeed, this is Vadam Keep. My house has ruled the state of Vadam since before the Prophets even met our species.” The duo stood in the upper levels of the fortress that served as Thel’s home, a balcony nearby overlooking the keep itself, as well as Vadam Valley. Behind them was the foot of Mount Kolaar, its rocky face extending into the clouds.

John paused. “It’s nice. And defensible.” Thel nodded. He knew that from the Spartan, that was a high compliment. Though the human had only been here a short while, Thel realized he had quickly calculated every strategic point of attack. And yet, that did not worry the Arbiter, for he knew that John was more inclined to defend the fortress than try to attack it. “Your family,” John continued. “May I meet them?”

“Indeed,” Thel smiled. He moved to the balcony, John following. Below them, the Arbiter could see Lak ‘Vadam, still spry in his wizened age, teaching some of his nephews the ways of the _arum_. “Lak!” he called over the edge, and the elder Sangheili looked up. “Bring the young ones to greet our guest. We shall meet you on the second floor.” Thel turned back to John, who had stood slightly behind him as he called. “Lak is a relative, although I know for certain he is not my direct uncle. He was the one that trained me, and even now, he trains my kin.” He began striding towards the stairs leading to the lower level.

“He did a good job,” John replied. “You’re all raised by uncles, aren’t you?”

Thel did not stop his stride as he nodded again. “Indeed, uncles and mothers. Sangheili are not allowed to know their own fathers, for fear it will cause favoritism. Many do know regardless, but my House has always remained strict.”

John tilted his head. “Technically, it’s something we have in common.” At Thel’s inclination of his head back to him, John continued. “Spartans don’t know our parents either. Unless you count our trainers.”

Thel kept walking. “Teachers, in some ways, are like parents. There is value in what they have to say, and a good teacher cares for a student.”

John said nothing more as they walked down another flight, and Thel knew instinctively that he was thinking. Perhaps of the later Sergeant, who had died in combat with them on the Ark. He had regaled the Arbiter with some tales of his first meeting with the Master Chief, back on Earth, as they shared a drink between battles. Or perhaps another figure in John’s life played such a role, unbeknownst to Thel as of yet.

Lak, followed by a trio of younglings, was there to greet them at the base of the stairs. “The D-the Spartan,” he cried, correcting himself quickly. If John cared about the slip, he made no indication of it. “It is good to see the one who fought alongside our kaidon to finish the Prophets and the parasite. I am Lak ‘Vadam.”

John extended a hand. Lak paused, before realizing that he should take it, whereupon the Master Chief shook it. “Master Chief Petty Officer John-117. Thel has told me about you. You trained him well.”

Thel spotted the pride in Lak’s eyes, a pride he’d seen plenty of times before. “Indeed,” the elder replied. “He has always been one of my finest students. I was worried about him, you know, after the events at the first Halo.” His tone edged towards a sharp inclination, but he still remained at a friendly posture. He knew, after all, that it had been John who had brought Thel to shame. There was a pregnant pause, but the next comment was one clearly meant to relax all at hand. “I am glad to see that it was only another step towards the warrior he is today.”

Still, one of the children stepped forward. “You are the one who destroyed Halo, yes?” he asked the human, eyes shining up at him.

“Thon!” Thel stepped forward to chastise the youngling. John held up a hand, however, to stop him.

“It’s quite alright.” The Spartan crouched down, to meet the youngling at eye level. “I did it. As well as High Charity, and the Ark.”

The child paused, meeting the human’s eyes. And yet in his own, there was no contempt, only awe. “You must be a great and powerful warrior, then,” he replied, some marvel in his voice. “Truly, you are a Demon, as the elders say.” He blinked, realizing his mistake. “Only to your enemies, of course!” he blurted, embarrassed.

John smiled gently, however. “I have been called that, yes. I think it suits me.” He turned his head back to Thel. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Thel huffed. “I think Spartan is more respectful.” He glanced at Lak, who looked a strange combination of amused at his former student’s choice in company and embarrassed at his current student’s lack of tact. Catching Thel’s eye, Lak blinked, before he righted himself. 

“Yes,” the elder said. “We really must spread that word around the keep better, to prevent any disrespect.” Still, though, a laugh twinkled in the old Sangheili’s eyes, and Thel knew he’d be in for some teasing later on. 

Speaking of Spartans, a six-note chime resounded out of John’s communicator. He looked to Thel, and with a nod, he stood moved to respond. “Speak to me,” he said, as he held the device up to his ear. “Got it. See you then. 117 out.” He frowned apologetically as he turned it off and clipped it back to his waist, he looked to Thel. “Kelly says she’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m afraid I’ll have to leave soon.”

Thel paused, considering. “How urgently must you go?”

John pursed his lips before he responded. “We’ve been left to our own devices, Kelly just likes to move quick. Why?”

The Arbiter closed two of his jaws, leaving the other two extended, his form of attempting to imitate a human smile. “You have met my family...perhaps it is time I spend some time with yours.” 

All it took was a smile of his own for John to indicate that that could be arranged. ”Alright. Trust me, though,” he said. “They’re a lot different than me, or any other human you have ever met.”

Lak cut back in. “We are in no rush. If anything, meeting more humans will help us become better allies in coming years. It is good for the children.” He gestured at the trio of younglings, who were staring at Thel and John with pleading eyes, clearly excited about meeting more of his kind, hoping that they were all as great warriors as he was.

“Indeed,” Thel rumbled, turning back inside the keep and leaving no room for argument. “I am curious to hear what stories they have to tell about you. The ones that I haven’t heard, at least.”

He didn’t need to turn back around to see John’s blush, but the Arbiter smiled to himself all the same.


End file.
